


Fetish

by orphan_account



Category: Merlin (BBC) RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-28
Updated: 2010-02-28
Packaged: 2017-10-07 15:04:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/66300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bradley thinks Colin has an arse fetish.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fetish

"I think Colin has an arse fetish."

"An arse..." Angel says slowly.

"Fetish," you finish for her. "Yes."

She looks at you and pushes the bottle of wine across the table. 

"Keep drinking, Bradley."

*

It's all very well for _Angel_. She doesn't have Colin showing up on her doorstep at all hours of the night. Right, okay, it's usually ten o'clock and it's not every night, but still. What are you supposed to do, tell him to go home and cure his addiction?

No, because you're a good friend, that's what you are, and he shows up with that bashful smile and says please and thank you when you offer him a drink and --

\-- and then your trousers are on the floor and your legs are in the air and Colin Morgan is fucking the sweet bejesus out of you.

*

You have to admit, it _is_ a nice arse. You turn around and examine it in the mirror one morning: smooth and round and -- you give it an experimental squeeze -- quite firm. 

But there's arse appreciation and then there's unhealthy obsession, and you're beginning to worry your fantastic bum might be a danger to Colin's sanity.

*

It's not like you're a, a _bottom_ or a girly-man or whatever. It's not like you haven't tried different positions. There _was_ that one time you tried to muscle Colin underneath you for once -- he palmed your thigh gently and said, "I like you this way," somehow utterly convincing and the next thing you knew you were on your back with Colin working himself inside you, high and deep, and the soles of your feet were prickling with so much exquisite tension you wanted to slam them down on something, hard enough to hurt.

*

The fact is, you'll probably just have to put up with it. If Angel doesn't believe you about Colin's problem there's no chance anyone else will. Everyone at work thinks Colin's so _lovely_, so polite and nice and charming; they'd laugh, that's what they'd do. But they don't know him like you know him; they don't know that Colin swears and drinks straight out of the stupid soy milk carton and sticks his finger in your eye just to make you squirm.

They don't know the filthy, terrible things he says to you in bed.

*

"How's that fetish going, Bradley?" Angel asks during lunch, smirking evilly around a salad roll.

"Just you wait, Coulby," you say. "One day the world will know the truth about my terrible burden."

"That Colin likes your bum?"

"I am a saint," you assure her. "A _saint_."

*

"Christ, oh, like that, darling, darling," Colin pants as you shove a hand down to fist your cock, and later he dips his face to yours and murmurs _sweetheart, sweetheart_ against your jaw while you gasp and shiver and shake apart beneath his voice.


End file.
